


Bête Noire

by Strange_Dark



Category: Lencest - Fandom, Vocaloid
Genre: Apples, Baking, Chemicals, Cotard Syndrome, Dehumanization, Disorders, High School, Holy Lance Explosion Boy, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lencest, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Mental Disorders, Multiple Personality Disorder, Night Terrors, Nightmare Disorder, REM sleep behavior disorder, Self-Harm, modules, project diva, reactive attatchment disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_Dark/pseuds/Strange_Dark
Summary: Hansel is in his senior year of high school, and on winter break. He invites four of his closest friends over for dinner, as well as their boyfriends, "boyfriends" being a more general term for each relationship. When Hansel is preparing the meal, his boyfriend, Lancer walks in and is distracting.When Hansel excuses himself to take a shit, Lancer accidently drops something into the pie crust batter.The next day, everyone comes over and everything is fine until they wake up the following day......with female bodies.





	1. Apples

Hansel hummed to himself as he cut up some sweet Washington apples. He couldn't wait to see his friends again. They hadn't really seen each other, they'd all been too busy at school. 

The warm green kitchen was filled with sweet aromas, welcoming all who entered. The alluring promise of baked goods was most likely the reason Lancer came downstairs.

Hansel jumped a little at feeling Lancer's arms wrap around his waist from behind. 

"Watcha doing?" the older male sang, tucking some of Hansel's golden hair behind his ear. 

"I already told you, I'm preparing food for tomorrow!" the smaller boy huffed.

"Can I be the taste tester?"

"No."

"Why do you look so good in that apron I got you for your birthday?"

"Not now, Lancer."

"Why is your asshole so pretty?"

"Can you not."

"Why?"

"Lancer, can you let me cook?" 

"Nooo."

Hansel groaned in exasperation. "I'm gonna take a shit. Do NOT touch anything, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be good," Lancer waved him on carelessly. 

After staring at Lancer accusingly for minute, Hansel finally decided the promiscuous male could be somewhat trusted. 

As soon as he left, Lancer whirled around to taste something sitting on the stove. His arm hit something and the contents fell into the pie crust batter that Hansel had been making. 

"Fuck," he stared in wide-eyed horror at the fluffy batter. "Oh no, nononononononono, HELL FUCKING NO!"

"Were you good while I was gone, Lancer?" 

The male jumped, plastering a fake smile on his guilty face. "Y-yeah! Of course! I'm gonna just... go watch football or something," he lied, then quickly left. It wasn't a complete lie, because he did return upstairs and watch lesbian porn. 

Hansel was too busy to notice anything off about Lancer's behavior, and nothing seemed different about his pie crust either. 

"I can't wait for them to come over," he sighed, running through his friends' faces in his head. He wondered whether Senbu was still lusting after the boy that appeared in his dreams, or if Dark was still terrified to fall asleep. Was Punkish doing better at math? Was Ayasaki still struggling with his heats?

Hansel missed them all, and couldn't wait to have them over.

He wondered if they liked apple pie.

( ^^) _旦~~( ^^) _旦~~( ^^) _旦~~


	2. Awake

"I can't... the world... I can't see color..."

Trickster looked unsurprised as the brunette rubbed his eyes frantically, climbing from under gray blankets. 

"Trickster-sama, what's wrong with me?"

The tall blonde was reluctant to respond. "The cost of bringing a Baku into your world."

"Am I... dead?"

"Of course not," Trickster scoffed, but the smaller boy still looked disbelieving. Trickster sighed and tried to explain. "The cost of pulling me from your dream into your world... you will be unable to see color. This is the monochrome world that is reality."

The young brunette frowned, crawling towards Trickster. "Will I ever see color again?"

"If I'm stranded here for long enough, then yes, my powers will fade and you will see color again."

"Are you sad?"

Trickster was surprised by the question. No one ever asked him about his personal life... or existence, really. They only demanded he devour their dreams, and bring them vivid fantasies until they drowned, and were forever cursed with monochrome reality. "W-what do you mean?"

"Would you be sad if you couldn't return to your world?"

He would have answered yes, but something stopped him. "I... don't know..."

"I think you'd be lonely again."

"What do you mean again?" Trickster shot back sharply, shaken from how hard this boy had struck the cold and painful truth.

"You don't have any friends, do you? All you exist for is to eat dreams. Then what?"

Trickster was surprised to feel warmth coursing down his cheeks.

Tears.

"I don't... want to be alone... but who could love a Baku...?"

The pale boy took Trickster's hands in his own. "Me."

The older male stared deep into his eyes. "You mean it?"

"You're here for a reason, you know."

"I guess so."

"My good friend Hansel is having me over tomorrow. I don't suppose you'd be interested...?"

"That sounds... nice. Thank you very much. And what is your name?"

"Senbu."

"It's a pleasure to be your new lover, Senbu dear."

(´▽｀)(´▽｀)(´▽｀)


	3. Afraid

The two boys were huddled close together on the bed in their rundown apartment. A single thin blanket was wrapped around their shoulders, giving almost nothing to them in their war against the cold. 

Starmine felt Dark's small body shudder against him, and he held the boy tighter in his arms. 

"Do you need more blanket?"

Dark shook his head frantically, pressing himself closer to his boyfriend. They were more like brothers really, but it didn't matter when all they cared about was the love they shared.

Starmine absent mindedly stroked Dark's back and was only conscious of it when he heard the younger blonde emit quiet purrs of approval. 

"It's cold," Dark whispered, his limbs tangled with Mine's in their desperate attempts to stay warm. 

"I know, Dark. I know."

Mine's voice was soothing as Dark settled in his loving arms, his breath a fleeting relief of warm air on Mine's collarbone. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, his brilliant green gaze locked with the shocking blue one of Mine. 

"I'm scared to fall asleep," he admitted tearfully, hiccupping as Mine kissed away his tears.

"I will protect you, Dark. Know that when you wake up, I'll be there to love you. Plus, you can't miss Hansel's cooking tomorrow."

Dark nodded, smiling at the thought of his friend and resting his head on Mine's shoulder. "Can you sing me to sleep?"

Mine smiled, and his strong voice held a soft melody that eventually lulled Dark to a seemingly peaceful sleep.

But looks can be deceiving, Mine knew that well by now.

This was the beginning of a long night.

ヽ(´ー｀)ノヽ(´ー｀)ノヽ(´ー｀)ノ


	4. Abuse

Punkish shivered, his feminine body stripped of clothing, laid on the cold concrete flooring of Blue's basement. His slender wrists were held in a pair of iron cuffs, chained to the middle of the basement. 

Echoing footsteps grew nearer, and the fear that ate at him grew hungrier.

If he pretended to be asleep, would Blue leave him alone?

"Ah-!"

He hadn't expected Blue to squeeze his ass like that, and failed to stop his reaction.

"I knew you were awake," Blue grinned, eyeing his submissive victim. "Don't worry, I heard you were invited to your little friend Hansel's place for dinner. You're not cheating on me are you?"

Punkish gritted his teeth, more worried about what his captor would do to him than what was going on at the moment. 

He gasped as he was forced onto his back, Blue crawling on top of him. "Why won't you let me see that gorgeous smile of yours, Baby?" Blue whined, playing with his helpless slave's hair. "You never look at me anymore," he pouted, grabbing Punkish's face in one large hand and forcing him to look up at his owner. "God, you're so beautiful."

Punkish shut his eyes, squirming from Blue's touch. 

Blue chuckled. "The more you struggle, the more I want you." Pulling Punkish into a kneeling position, Blue let his trousers fall around his ankles. "Open wide, Baby."

Punkish pursed his lips, glaring up at the older male. Blue rolled his eyes, grabbing Punkish's chin and forcing his mouth open anyway.

"No please don't-!"

Blue ignored his unwilling uke's plea, pushing his length through the rosy pink lips of his pet, his Punkish. A gagging noise was heard, but Blue chose to ignore it, instead clutching the back of Punkish's head and shoving more of his member down the boy's throat.

Punkish tried his best to refuse, but his hair was sensitive, and he hated for it to be pulled. 

"Get it nice and wet, Baby."

Punkish considered disobeying, but realized that Blue wouldn't remove his cock from his small mouth unless it was covered in saliva. The less time Blue was down his throat, the better as far as he was concerned. Very grudgingly, he ran his tongue around the swollen member, making sure it was completely covered before attempting to pull his head back again.

Blue was aware of this, and let go of Punkish's hair. Punkish gasped for air as Blue returned him the space in his mouth. He coughed for a bit, leaning over on all fours and trying not to puke.

"Looks like you did good, Baby."

Punkish had learned not to flinch when Blue called him that, but it never got easier. He jerked back as Blue rubbed his member on his sexy slave's smooth cheek, decorating it with pre-cum and saliva. He started to back away, but Blue tangled his fingers in his uke's hair once again, pushing his cock through Punkish's lips again. 

This time, Blue let his hips buck, faster and faster until he was simply fucking his toy's tight little throat, making the victimized boy choke and plead for a break.

Blue ignored him, fucking the poor blonde's throat until he was satisfied. Tears spilled down Punkish's pretty features as Blue used him like that, so shamelessly torturing him for his own pleasure.

The younger boy whimpered as Blue came, half of it in his mouth and the rest splattering on his face. 

"Oh Baby, you look even more beautiful when you're covered in my cum," Blue gushed, removing his length slowly from Punkish's mouth. 

As soon as he could, Punkish bent over and spat out all of Blue's seed, spitting several more times to ensure that none of it had been swallowed.

The angry glare he received from Blue told him he should have just swallowed it.

"Blue, don't- AAH! PLEASE NO!"

The furious blonde grabbed a fistful of his screaming slaves silky bangs, then with that he threw the submissive boy into the wall.

Punkish cried out as his slim body crashed into the wall, then fell to the floor. The loud clanging of his manacles burned into his ears, further reminders that he was Blue's, whether he liked it or not. 

"Ah! St-stop!" 

He felt Blue clutch his hair again, then he was slammed to the ground. 

"Please... please don't..."

Blue had kidnapped him and raped him for weeks, why would the older blonde listen now?

"No amount of begging will get you out of this," Blue hissed, pinning Punkish to the ground by pressing down on his back. With his other hand, he made sure he had a firm grip on Punkish's soft bangs again, then yanked on them to force his head up.

"NO!" Punkish shrieked, already knowing what was to be done with him. He pulled desperately at his shackles, but they gave him nothing, only more pain and an irritating clang. 

"Aw, is something wrong, Baby?"

Punkish let himself cry as Blue pulled his hair again. "Don't... don't hurt me..." he sobbed uselessly, though he was preparing himself for hellish pain. He could already feel Blue at his entrance.

The seme was hungry as fuck, ready to devour his lush meal.

Punkish kicked out, trying to get Blue let go of him, to stop groping his thighs and pushing his face into the ground.

"Blue, you can't do this to me!"

"Can't I?"

"It hurts... it hurts so fucking bad..."

"You can't have pleasure without pain, Baby."

"Don't do it... please... please don't do it..."

"Too late."

A shattering scream tore from the helpless blonde as Blue entered him.

"STOP! STOP IT! YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

Blue paused, and for a second, Punkish truly believed it had gotten through to his captor. 

A harsh strike across the ass told him otherwise.

He struggled wildly, pulling at his shackles, doing anything in his power to escape, but Blue kept fucking him harder and harder, giving him increasingly unbearable pain. 

"I can't..."

Punkish's futile pleas were broken and defeated, and he reached out weakly in the direction of the door, and his freedom.

His screams of anguish grew louder by the second, tears flooding down his face and involuntary drool gathering in a pool beside his head. He shouted for mercy again and again as Blue continued to yank on his golden tresses, a quick punishment for his screaming, but an extremely effective form of discipline. 

It was too long before Blue finally reached his climax, at long last ceasing his pursuit to torture Punkish.

The young blonde was sore and ached all over from the excessively rough love making. He hiccupped as the dull pain pounded inside him, and Blue just watched him.

The older male was dazed from his orgasm, and ready to fall asleep. He kissed Punkish's collarbone gently, until he saw the boy's pain ridden features.

The fear in Punkish's eyes haunted Blue as he fell asleep on top of his beautiful slave.

ヽ(｀Д´)ノヽ(｀Д´)ノヽ(｀Д´)ノ


	5. Awkward

It wasn't a lie to say that Ayasaki and Tsuru were really... getting in there.

Half undressed, it was hard to tell where one boy ended and the other began. Tsuru's tongue roamed Aya's mouth, his hands tangled in Aya's long pale hair. Small moans could be heard from the younger blonde, and Tsuru could feel their crotches rubbing against each other.

"Sup guys."

Annoyed, Ayasaki slowly drew himself from Tsuru, turning to flip off the person who'd walked in. "What are you doing here, Whoregetsu?"

Hougetsu rolled his eyes. "I'm Tsuru's roommate, Ayaslutty. I live here. Last I checked, you're still in high school."

Aya crossed his arms and glared, but Hougetsu just laughed it off. "Speaking of high school, isn't one of your friends having you over tomorrow for a playdate or something?"

Aya stuck his tongue out rather childishly. "I'm eighteen, Whoregetsu."

"Fine. You and your friend are going to have a slumber party."

"Whoregetsu."

"Ayaslutty."

Tsuru looked back and forth between the two, trying his hardest not to laugh. "I'm going too. Maybe you can come along too."

Hougetsu raised his eyebrows. "Why would I come along?"

"Hansel's an amazing chef," Ayasaki grumbled, at least hoping to defend his friend. "Hey, maybe you and Senbu can bond over your love of alcohol."

"OWO WHAT'S THIS?"

"Whoregetsu what the fuck was that?"

"I must now meet this Senbu person."

Aya face palmed, secretly wishing Hougetsu would just leave so that he could kiss Tsuru in peace.

It seemed like Hougetsu got the hint. "I'll leave you two to... whatever activities you were doing."

Aya heard the door shut quietly, then after a moment he wrapped his arms around Tsuru's neck, pulling him in for another long kiss.

(￣▽￣)(￣▽￣)(￣▽￣)


	6. Basketball

After several hours of baking, Hansel was finally ready for the next days meal. He could hear interesting noises from where he assumed Lancer was, and after storing everything he decided to go check on him.

"Lancer? Are you alright?"

Without waiting for an answer, Hansel barged in.

Half of Lancer's clothing had been carelessly discarded, and the male sat stroking himself and groaning loudly as two women on the tv screen were eating each other out.

"Oh Lancer," Hansel sighed, getting on his knees. "I'm assuming you'd be interested in a little basketball?"

Lancer pressed his sweaty back against the cool wall, saliva dribbling down his chin as Hansel swallowed him.

"H-Hansel..."

He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile effort to remain quiet. Hansel was making him feel too good, just like always. He couldn't help himself.

He was in love.

_(._.)__(._.)__(._.)_


	7. Breathe

Cotard's Syndrome: Named after Jules Cotard, a French neurologist who first described the condition, Cotard’s Syndrome (or Cotard’s Delusion or Walking Corpse Syndrome) is a rare mental disorder where sufferers imagine that they are decomposing, dead or non-existent.

(https://health.howstuffworks.com/mental-health/mental-disorders/what-is-cotards-syndrome.htm)

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Senbu shook his head. "Why would I need to?"

Trickster frowned. "You'll feel better tomorrow, and it's how your body recharges."

"I don't need to."

"Of course you do, what are you talking about?" Trickster exclaimed, rather alarmed. "What are you saying? Why wouldn't you need sleep?"

"You don't need sleep if you're dead."

 

(－－〆)(－－〆)(－－〆)


	8. Break

Nightmare Disorder: excessive nightmares, can lead to fear of going to sleep which affects the victim in the hours of sleep they get.

Night Terrors: nightmares so bad that the victim can scream in their sleep, sit up and stare blankly, kick and thrash, act violently if restrained, be hard to wake up or be disoriented when they wake up. Often do not remember anything like this happening once awake.

REM Sleep Behavior Disorder: a disorder that causes the victim to act out their dreams.

Mine had started to nod off, but as soon as he'd slipped into a peaceful slumber, it all began.

A piercing shriek left Dark's tiny form, and he curled up, shivering. Mine was alert, careful not to move too violently in fear of worsening Dark's nightmare. The small boy was starting to thrash wildly now, his thin limbs fighting off an invisible enemy, cries of pain and desperation falling from his lips. He screamed at his attacker to leave him alone, to leave Mine alone as well. Tears sprung into his eyes, making their way down his distressed features even in his sleep. 

His actions were getting wild now, and he risked hurting himself. Mine gently held his wrists, despite Dark's more aggressive reactions as a result. He cried for the younger boy, who suffered these terrors nearly every night. He cursed everything for punishing Dark like that, but he mostly cursed himself for being helpless to do anything about it. He watched sadly as Dark trembled within his embrace, whimpering and flinching as if he were being hit. His voice was thick with tears, and he repeatedly mumbled for his torturer not to hurt Mine.

As Dark began to calm down, Mine ran his fingers through the young blonde's hair. "I'm sorry... I couldn't do anything... again..."

 

(´Д｀)(´Д｀)(´Д｀)


	9. Beneath

Dehumanization: pretty much what it says, but dehumanization is when an individual is treated as though they are less than human.

Punkish felt unexpectedly warm when he woke up.

He'd forgotten what that felt like, Blue's basement was so damn cold. Now that he thought about it, the ground wasn't as cold and hard as he was used to. In contrast, it was warm and inviting, he wanted to sink into it.

He opened his eyes, finding himself in a... bed.

At home, he'd never had one. His Father and stepmother couldn't stand him. He was just their punching bag, their toy. Now he was Blue's toy to play with, but what did it matter? All he was to anyone was a body. Nobody cared how he felt, or what he wanted. They only cared for satisfying their filthy needs.

He slid out of the bed, feeling the material of one of Blue's shirts over his shoulders. He stopped cold at the sight of Blue asleep on the floor, curled up in attempt to stay comfortable.

Punkish knew too well what that was like.

The room looked the same as it had back when Blue was just his tutor. It made him sad, thinking back to what he'd first thought Blue was like. He shook his head, wandering over to Blue's desk.

He cringed, quickly turning over a drawing that depicted him receiving various acts of filthy love from Blue. He caught the edge of another drawing underneath, and cautiously pulled it out.

He couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing.

Blue had drawn him in his normal outfit, beautiful as he naturally was. In his arms, he held a small child, a girl that looked just like him, with a few of Blue's features. She had a huge smile on her face, holding Punkish's wrist and with her other small hand, she grabbed Blue's finger. Blue was smiling at her fondly, his free arm around Punkish's shoulder.

Punkish was shaken. 

Was this... what Blue truly wanted...?

He heard the older male stir, and quickly pocketed the beautiful drawing. 

"How are you, love?" Blue mumbled, turning over and facing an imaginary person beside him, caressing their cheek and smiling at them. "Our daughter's waiting for you to wake up, it's your birthday!"

Punkish couldn't help but watch as Blue went through with his little antics. 

"Don't be silly, of course I didn't forget, I'm your husband!"

Punkish sat down slowly, curious as to where this was going.

"There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with."

Punkish was itching to hear who Blue was talking to. Little did he know, he was about to find out. He waited impatiently for Blue to address the person in his dream.

"I love you, Punkish."

(´ー｀)(´ー｀)(´ー｀)


	10. Blood

Multiple Personality disorder: pretty self explanatory.

Hougetsu grumbled as he heard someone shifting in their bed. It was the middle of the night, he knew that, and he was irritable because of it.

He sat up to see who it was, and almost immediately regretted it. 

Ayasaki could be a little strange sometimes, waking up in the middle if the night and acting nothing like himself.

It was as if he was a whole different person.

Hougetsu reached over to gently wake Tsuru. "We should be alert," he mouthed, tilting his head in Aya's direction.

Tsuru looked over, then nodded. 

Ayasaki growled at nothing, eyes flaring as he focused on the curtain. With inhuman agility, he pounced on the crimson curtain, tearing it easily from it's perch like wet paper. He clawed at it madly, ripping right through it and pulling it apart. He reached to his side for his katana, then drew the weapon in a graceful move, spinning around to face an unseen enemy.

Hougetsu was terrified of Ayasaki when the pale blonde was like this, fierce but in a different way than he usually was.

This side of his personality was almost...

...demonic.

 

(・・?(・・?(・・?


	11. Consent

Hansel had anticipated Lancer's next move once the older male came in his mouth.

He dodged Lancer's grab for his wrists, leaving the older male shocked on the squishy green couch. "Do you want to play football that badly?" Hansel asked, intercepting Lancer's hand before it could touch him in places he'd rather not be touched in. 

Lancer nodded vigorously, shocked by such a question. It seemed that he expected Hansel to submit to his desires.


End file.
